


Autobot Angels

by Dragoness Eclectic (DragonessEclectic)



Series: TF:TM Tetralogy [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Guardian Angels, Transformers: The Movie (1986)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonessEclectic/pseuds/Dragoness%20Eclectic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[G1,TFTM] A novella of the Autobot dead who did not go gently into that good night, nor rested quietly while their friends fought so desperately for Autobot City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silence of the Dead

_Autobot City, 2005_

Stillness, and the acrid smell of smoke still hang over the crashed shuttle. _That_ shuttle; the shuttle that carried Megatron and his team safely past the outer defenses of Autobot City. Elsewhere, the battle rages in full fury, but here, there is only the silence of the dead.

It is not silent to those who know how to _listen._

The whisper comes as a gentle susurrus, like the wind--but there is no wind, only stillness. The faintest of whispers, trilling gently to those beyond all hearing--but not beyond _listening_. An insistent whisper, gentle, quiet, yet powerful enough to re-make worlds...

_Awaken, my children; the time for sleep is done. You are needed._

#

"Oh man, what hit me?" Brawn groaned as he got to his feet, his complaint steadying him while the sleep-heaviness faded from his mind. The oddly transparent orange and brown Autobot turned to look around, and froze as he saw the wreckage in the forward bridge. "Prowl? Ratchet?? IRONHIDE!" Then he looked down. "Oh."

The ghost of Prowl sat up and shook his head as if to clear it. "Offhand, I'd say Megatron. In gun mode." He knelt and pushed himself to his feet, then looked down at his own blasted and burned-out corpse for several long moments. Several expressions crossed his ghostly face in turn: regret, thoughtfulness, wonder, and finally a certain peaceful composure. "It's over now," he said to himself. 

To Brawn he said, "That was Scavenger's shooting, I think. He nailed me square in the fuel pump and it exploded."

"Prowl!" Brawn looked at the ghostly black and white Transformer imploringly. "We're--"

"--dead. I know. Doesn't seem to have hurt us all that much." Prowl smiled reassuringly at the spectral orange and brown minibot. "Let's see how the others are." He stepped carefully around his own body and knelt by Ratchet.

"Didn't hurt us all that much?" Brawn said plaintively. "But we're _dead!_ "

Prowl looked at Brawn. "We're still here, we're still _us_ , and we're still friends," he said, his words clipped and precise as always. Brawn nodded, and Prowl continued, "And I feel fine--definitely better than I did just before I died." He patted the smaller bot's shoulder. "I don't what happens next, but I think we'll be all right."

Prowl turned back to Ratchet's corpse. "Ratchet, old friend, you with us?"

Ratchet's ghost raised himself on his elbows and blinked at Prowl. "Well this is new! Usually I'm the one looking you over in the repair bay. How bad is it this time? I know I took a pretty nasty hit from Starscream, and I thought you--" Ratchet broke off as he noticed Prowl's corpse lying on the deck beyond the transparent form of the Autobot. Ratchet scrambled to his feet. "Oh, scrap. Let me guess, I got hit just as hard as you did?"

Prowl nodded toward Ratchet's badly-holed corpse on the deck. "Pretty much."

Ratchet knelt by the blasted white shell and gently brushed transparent fingers across the gray chevron horns. "Never thought I'd see myself this way. Always worried that it would be one of you; I was always afraid I wouldn't get to someone in time, or couldn't do the job fast enough or well enough, and I'd never forgive myself for losing one of you guys... Never thought it would be me."

Ratchet glanced at Brawn, taking in his slight transparency and uncharacteristically subdued manner. "You, too?" Brawn nodded briefly. Ratchet turned to look where Ironhide had fallen. "Are we all--?" 

"'Fraid so, Ratchet. You ain't puttin' me back together this time," Ironhide answered. The ghost stood by the main bridge console, arms folded, regarding the ghastly wreckage of his body. "Megatron must have been _really_ afraid of me," he drawled.

Prowl walked over beside the transparent red and gray Transformer and looked at the object of his attention. He winced, and said, "What did you do to annoy him so much?"

"Didn't die fast enough." Ironhide strolled from corpse to corpse, inspecting each blasted shell. "Laser core hit, laser core hit, fuel pump exploded, laser core _and_ fuel pump in one shot..." He shook his head in annoyance. "Why is it that most Cons can't hit the broadside of a battleship to save their lives, but Starscream with Megatron in hand turns into Annie Oakley every slagging time?"

"Annie Oakley?" Prowl asked, slightly bemused.

"You've watched as many of Sparkplug's westerns as I have. You know what I mean."

"I do." Prowl lifted his door-wings in his version of a shrug. "Starscream always has that extra motivation when Megatron is around. What caused the rest of the damage?"

Ironhide glanced back at Prowl. "I overheard Megatron's plan to attack Autobot City. I tried to stop him, but didn't have anything left to stop him with. All it got me was a cannon shot in the face."

Prowl and Ratchet both winced sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Ironhide," Ratchet added.

Ironhide shook his head. "It ain't yer fault. Fortunes of war. I always figured I'd go out in battle, though bein' caught in an ambush like this isn't exactly the way I wanted to go."

"I never figured on dying," said Brawn in his gruff voice. "Figured I could just bull through, no matter how tough it got." He slouched disconsolately against a console. "I tried to warn you guys, buy you some time," Brawn continued, "but it wasn't enough! I wasn't strong enough! We... _lost_." He tried to punch the console, but his hand sailed right through it with no effect. "I wouldn't mind dying so much if you guys had made it."

Prowl nodded in somber agreement. Ratchet rested a comforting hand on Brawn's shoulder and said, "We all feel that way, but what's done is done. Something I learned early on as a medic: sometimes, no matter how good you are, no matter what you do, you can't win. All you can do is pick up the pieces afterwards." 

"And if you can't pick up the pieces?" said Brawn, as he looked at the wreckage again.

"We've already picked up the pieces," Prowl said, looking at each of them in turn. "Or we wouldn't be standing here talking about it. Whatever's next, we'll face it together."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet. "Even if you couldn't possibly win, it still hurts to lose. I feel like I let Prime and the others down, somehow."

Ratchet looked back one last time. "Yes, it does." He looked back at Ironhide. "And so do I. They'll need us very badly, very soon, and...." He could say no more, but his face betrayed the regret the Autobot medic felt.

Prowl moved to the gaping hole in the side of the shuttle and looked toward Autobot City. He glanced back. "Ironhide, we're done here?" 

Ironhide glanced briefly at the other three. "I think so. I think we're done with the whole war, but...?"

"So do I," Prowl said. He nodded toward the city. "But there's fighting there. I want to know how it turns out. Even if there's nothing I can do about it anymore." One fist tightened and relaxed. "I'm supposed to be there, leading us in what looks to be the worst fight since we came to Earth, and I _can't_!" Rare emotion crossed Prowl's normally impassive face.

The second time, not a whisper but a great voice sang in their very souls:

 _Listen, my children, and attend: Ratchet, Ironhide, you will yet do more than you know. Brawn, you have not lost yet. Prowl--you will do what it is in_ you _to do, and that is to_ lead _._

 _Come to me, beloved, to your proper realm; you are_ needed _by both the living and the dead, and you shall return; but first, you must be made anew._

Everything changed.


	2. Silence of the Dead

The battle for Autobot City raged on through the night. The Insecticons were wounded, out of the fray; Devastator pounded at the massive gates again and again, only to be repulsed by the great gun manned by Springer and Arcee. Starscream and the rest of the Seekers sniped at other Autobot defenders, picking targets by the flash of cannon and snap of lasers--and being targeted in return. Blitzwing roamed the city, blasting any strong points with his cannon, then flying away before counter-fire could hit. Astrotrain did much the same.

First Aid of the Protectobots was kept very busy repairing the wounded. He could barely keep up, but with a little help, he managed. The defenders would survive, battered, cracked, and beaten up, but alive. Most of them, anyway.

Prowl found the ones that didn't. He had only to look for the _other_ angel who walked this battlefield with them--

_...all gleaming blue metal and warm brown scale blending into a unified whole, wrapped in great silver wings of razor-edged transmetal feathers. Taloned hands wielded a great sword of whirling metal shapes; deadly green eyes looked at him as the Angel of Death gave Prowl a dangerous, needle-toothed smile. Even to the dead, that smile was daunting..._

Prowl's job-- _their_ job _\--_ was to make sure that particular entity had very little work to do today. He'd already been quite busy enough with the four--seven, now--of them.

_Ratchet, meet me in the big gun tower to the left of the main gate--the one that's shooting Devastator every other minute. I found Wheeljack. And Windcharger._

Ratchet was suddenly there--like Prowl, invisible and intangible to the living Autobots grimly firing the big gun, though every now and then Kup would look around warily.

_Oh, slaggit! Wheeljack! Of all the people to go and get himself killed... Hey, Brawn! Come on over here--Springer's Gun Tower--and chat with your pal Windcharger. He needs a close friend to talk him around a bit._

_Right there, Ratchet._ Brawn arrived, as spectral as the others, and sat next to Windcharger's body. A fairly neat hole drilled into his chest plate, marred by the rips of an internal blast, marked the laser core hit that had killed the blue and red minibot.

"Windcharger, buddy, you plannin' on layin' around for the whole fight?"

"I'm hit bad, Brawn. I can't feel anything, I can't move, I'm scared!" answered Windcharger, an unaccustomed quaver in his normally cheery voice.

"You? Scared? When was you ever scared of anything?"

"Brawn, I'm scared that I'm dying."

"Nope. You're not dying."

"Are you sure?"

"Real sure."

_"_ How do you know?"

"'Cause you're already dead." 

Windcharger's ghost sat up very abruptly and glared at Brawn. "That's not funny, you jerk!"

Brawn backed quickly away as the irate minibot followed him, fists clenched. "Wasn't funny six hours ago when Megatron blew out my laser core. Look behind you."

Windcharger looked back and finally noticed his laser-punctured corpse. "Oh. I'm--oh." Then as Brawn's next to last words sunk in, "Oh." He turned to look closely at Brawn, his blue optics bright. "You, too?"

"Yeah." Brawn nodded toward the rest of the room, a soft glow in his now-white optics. "An' Ratchet and Prowl there--now where's Prowl going?--and Ironhide, wherever he's gotten to. Megatron ambushed the shuttle and hijacked it over our dead bodies. What happened to you?"

"After Wheeljack bought it--" Windcharger glanced around the room and looked a bit startled to notice Wheeljack quietly chatting with Ratchet. "Er, after that, I tried to get some return fire into Blitzwing, and someone must have spotted me. Astrotrain pulled some aerial maneuver that dropped him right in front of my gun port, and I found myself looking straight up his gun. That was lights out for me. Um, now what?"

Brawn grinned and held out his hand to Windcharger. "Now come with me--we got stuffs to do, and you're gonna love it!"

While Brawn busied himself with Windcharger, Ratchet had gone to see what he could do for Wheeljack. 

"Wheeljack, old friend, you going to tell me who hit you like that? I really want to hear that the other guy looks worse," Ratchet said gruffly.

The shade of Wheeljack groaned and groggily lifted his head, much as Ratchet himself had some hours earlier. "Sorry, Ratchet old pal, I can't tell you that. Blitzwing got in all the licks, I just took 'em. How long is it going to take you to fix me up?"

"I can't fix you up, old friend," Ratchet said sadly, gray chevron horns emphasizing the side-to-side shake of his head.

"Why not? It's that bad, huh? Hey," Wheeljack said softly, "you can tell me the truth. I can take it."

"I can't fix you up for two reasons, Wheeljack. One is that I'm dead. The other is that you're dead."

Wheeljack looked back at Ratchet for a long moment, seeing the truth in the gentle white glow of his optics. "I kinda suspected that I wasn't gonna make it when I found myself looking down Blitzwing's cannon." Wheeljack scrambled to his feet and stepped back, away from his corpse. He looked at it for a few seconds. "I'm definitely not looking my best here. So Megs didn't just steal the shuttle when no one was looking? I didn't really think they did, but I was kinda hoping."

"No, they blasted their way into the shuttle and took over." 

"I'm sorry, Ratchet." Wheeljack dimmed his ear fins. 

Ratchet made an exasperated noise like an engine stuttering. "Not your fault. There's only two people who owe me an apology for this, and you're not either one of them." Ratchet gave Wheeljack a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Come on, I've got things to do and you've got places to be."

Wheeljack tilted his head and looked at Ratchet. "Can't be too bad if you're here to tell me about it. This is going to hit Perceptor hard, though... losing both of us. And I hate to think how the Dinobots are going to take it." A thought occurred to the dead Autobot. "Is Perceptor... okay?"

"He's okay."

"As a dead guy talking to another dead guy, which value of 'okay' are we talking about?"

"Alive and relatively undamaged."

_Ratchet, just to let you know, Huffer's with us._

_What happened, Prowl?_

_Seekers caught him in the open, en route to the City. He's okay, though a bit upset at not getting back to Cybertron yet._

_Which value of 'okay' are **you**_ _using, Prowl?_

_The one that applies to us._


	3. Medical Miracles

Autobot City held through the long night. Small miracles abounded. Doors held that should have fallen, Kup and Daniel found a whole storeroom full of ammo when they thought they'd run out, and one overwhelmed medic got the help he so desperately needed to keep the Autobots alive.

Only the most critically wounded were brought to the repair bay now. Any Autobot who could still fight stayed in the line, so desperate was the battle for the city. Even so, every repair table was occupied. The sharp tang of spilled energon fought with the acrid smell of burnt circuitry; droplets of energon mingled with puddles of hydraulic fluid, lubricant and coolant on the once-pristine floor. In the middle of it all, a harried First Aid bent over a badly wounded gray and white Autobot with red horns--Bluestreak. On an adjacent table, the latest arrival, Sideswipe, lay still in shock, fluids leaking from the hole puncturing his chest.

Too many wounded, thought First Aid. I can't even get to all of the very worst hurt in time. I'm going to lose some if this doesn't stop--

"First Aid, get on Sideswipe there! He's got a bad fuel leak near the pump. I'll take over on Bluestreak."

First Aid looked up blearily at the familiar white and red bot standing beside him. "Ratchet! Thank Primus! I was starting to lose it, and I'm the only medic here--or I was." He obediently moved to the critically wounded Sideswipe, letting the older medic take over on Bluestreak's emergency repairs.

"Well, we're not going to lose anyone else tonight if I can possibly help it," Ratchet said grimly as he worked on Bluestreak.

"We will if someone can't find us the rest of the spare parts. I've exhausted the repair bay's stores, and there's no one to spare to get them from the main warehouse."

"I think I can scare up someone," said Ratchet.

_Prowl, drop whatever you're doing and see if you can find the spare parts in the main warehouse. I need 'em in the repair bay._

_Wingnuts! Ratchet, this is a really, really bad time for me to drop what I'm doing--_

_I'll handle it,_ Wheeljack interjected. _I even know where the spare parts are._

_Wheeljack! Didn't expect you back so soon._

_Eh, didn't take me that long to get sorted out. Even if I was totally surprised--never figured it'd be quite like this! I'm still_ me _, but--wow!--it's like being spark-bonded to everyone! Anyway, figured you might need me here._

_I sure do. Show yourself **before** you enter the repair bay--First Aid doesn't need the distraction of dead guys popping out of thin air. Not when he's tryin' to hold Sideswipe's fuel pump together with duct tape._

_Hey, give me credit for some common sense!_

_This from the inventor who never learned the meaning of the words 'safety interlock'?_

_... Point taken. Anyway, I don't think he's heard the bad news yet._

_He doesn't need live guys popping out of thin air, either. Trust me, that sort of thing is distracting when you're elbow-deep in somebody's smashed chassis._

_Point taken already! Although I really want to hear how you know that, sometime..._

_Does the name 'Mirage' ring a bell?_

About five minutes later, Wheeljack rolled two carts stacked with boxes into the repair bay. "Hey, First Aid! This what you need? Major systems modules should be on cart number one here, and the little stuff like cables, gears, hydraulics and hoses in that pile on number two."

"Wheeljack? Thank Primus! You may have just saved Sideswipe's life! Crack open a box of fuel pumps and bring me one stat!" First Aid delicately shifted probes in Sideswipe's chest. "This patch won't hold for long--bring me some replacement fuel hoses and clamps, too."

_Hey, Ratchet, what happened to 'I can't fix you because I'm dead'?_

_Exaggeration for effect, Wheeljack. Second reason I couldn't fix you still applies. Now are you going to make yourself useful, or am I going to toss this spanner at your head?_

_*chuckle*_

"I'm on it," Wheeljack said, carefully unpacking the fuel pump from its box. "Let me know where you need a hand--Ratchet isn't the only one who knows his way around the inside of an Autobot."

"That's right, you built the Dinobots, didn't you?" said First Aid as he made room for Wheeljack to assist.

"Yep. Ouch, that looks bad--laser must have nicked his fuel pump. Sides is lucky it didn't explode," Wheeljack said.

"That can happen??" First Aid's voice shook, but his hands were steady as he hooked the new fuel pump up in parallel with the damaged one. 

"Yes, with a hot enough weapon, like a laser.. or Megatron's fusion cannon," Ratchet said from across the room. "You haven't seen many battlefield casualties, have you?"

"No, this is my first real battle. I don't like it one bit." First Aid's voice steadied; there was an undertone of anger.

"None of us do. You're doin' fine, First Aid. Just keep on doing what you're doing. I'll back you as I can," said Ratchet.

Bluestreak came back online with a start, optics flaring bright with barely suppressed panic that turned into an expression of incredible relief at the sight of Ratchet. "Ratchet... Oh thank Primus it's you! I was afraid we'd lost, and I was in Decepticon hands, and they were reviving me to interrogate me or something and--"

"Shhhh, calm down, Bluestreak," Ratchet smiled at him in his best "reassuring doctor" manner. "It's all right, I'll have all the pieces back in place in a few minutes."

"You're not going to yell at me about getting shot? I mean, it's not like I planned on it, but those Seekers caught me from above and--"

"Bluestreak."

"Yes, Ratchet?"

"Calm down. Isn't like you had a choice, or anyone else here," Ratchet seemed to sigh. "Battle's still going on--you'll do what you have to do, Bluestreak. If it all falls apart, either me or First Aid will take care of you, okay?"

Bluestreak looked up Ratchet with such innocence and hope as to wrench the medic to the depths of his spark. "I know you will." He relaxed then, letting himself drift as Ratchet continued with his repairs.

_Primus! It's going to be hard leaving this kid behind... Who'll take care of him next time?_

_I keep asking myself that about the Dinobots,_ Wheeljack answered. _They still don't have a lot of friends--though that new kid, Hot Rod, likes 'em. Just gotta hope for the best._

_Yeah._

Sometime later...

_You know, if Arcee or Kup drags someone in here, my presence is going to be real hard to explain._

_Wheeljack, giving Kup material for a new ghost story is the **least** of our problems right now. You two got Sideswipe stable yet?_

_Yea, got the replacement pump installed. Just tying off the damaged hoses and removing them now. And I was just mentioning it because I heard someone coming down the hall._

Blaster staggered in carrying an unconscious Perceptor. "First Aid, Perceptor's been hit! I don't know how bad!"

"Bring him over here, I'll take care of him," Ratchet said, interrupting First Aid before he could say anything. "I'm finished with Bluestreak," he said as he shooed the now-conscious Autobot off his repair table, "and First Aid's still putting important pieces of Sideswipe back together."

"Ratchet?? When did you get here? And how? I thought you were coming in on that shuttle that turned out to be full of Decepticons!" Blaster staggered over to the repair table next to Ratchet and carefully laid Perceptor down.

"Do I look like a Decepticon? I got here about an hour ago. Now quit your yapping so I can see what's wrong with Perceptor."

_Nice duck and weave, Ratchet._

_Hmmph. What made you think you're the only one who doesn't have a good explanation for being here? And you can quit trying to hide behind First Aid, Wheeljack. I don't think Blaster has a clue that you and Blitzwing's cannon got personal. Turn the rest of the work on Sideswipe over to First Aid and come help me with Perceptor._

"What happened, Blaster?" Ratchet asked as he looked over Perceptor's bent and battered chassis. "Looks like concussion damage--explosion?"

"We had those lousy cassetticons on the run, Ratchet, and then BOOM! POWIE! Somebody got us ranged in with a heavy gun. My ears are still ringing!" Blaster said, shaking his head as if to clear his audio pickups. "Good thing my cassettes were chasing Soundwave's cassettes cross country, or they'd have been shredded, Ratchet."

"Blitzwing." Wheeljack stood at Ratchet's shoulder. "Lucky it was only a near miss."

Blaster said, "I think you got the villain pegged, Wheeljack."

Perceptor groaned. "Oh my aching head! What hit me?"

" _I'm_ going to, if you twitch like that again when I'm checking out your scope array," Ratchet snapped. "Perceptor, do you still keep spare lenses in the lab?"

Perceptor tried to focus on the blur above him. "Ratchet, that sounds like your voice, but my vision is severely blurred."

"Your lenses were cracked in the blast, not your ears: do you still have spare lenses?" 

"Yes, but I'm not sure where I put them." 

"I know where they are!" Wheeljack interjected. "I came across them last week when I was clearing out some cabinet space for my new project." Wheeljack took off for the lab, his feet clanging on the floor as he ran.

"You're sounding a lot better, and Ratchet will get you fixed up good as new!" Blaster said, sounding pleased. "I've got to keep an eye on the situation, so see ya round!" The round red Autobot headed back out of the repair bay.

_Slag. I just realized I won't ever get to finish that project._

_You aren't the only one who's had that feeling. It'll pass._

_I hope so._

_How many projects did you leave behind on Cybertron when we left on the Ark? Did it bother you all that much on Earth?_

_No... but there was so much else to do on Earth, and what I left behind on Cybertron was just... not relevant anymore. If it was, I picked it up and applied it to Earth problems._

_Hmmm...._

_...Point taken._

"Ratchet, how did you get here? I thought you were on that shuttle, but when Megatron and the Decepticons came out instead, I... assumed the worst," Perceptor said.

_"_ First Aid needed help, so I came down to the repair bay to lend a hand. If you keep talking while I'm removing all this shattered lenswork, you're going to wind up with small shards of glass in some very sensitive circuits."

_"_ Eep!"

A short while later, Wheeljack returned with two long metal tubes containing Perceptor's spare lenses. "Got 'em!"

"Good. You can do the lens re-alignment. I've had enough fun removing broken lenswork; I need to check his other circuits. He had a pretty bad shaking-up."

"Does that mean it is safe for me to talk now?" asked Perceptor.

"Sure! Just don't get the urge to wiggle around while I'm doing this," answered Wheeljack as he opened one of the metal tubes and started installing the lenses in Perceptor's lens array.

"There!" said Ratchet some time later as he closed an access panel. "That takes care of the last of those loose circuits. Once Wheeljack finishes with your lenses, you should be as good as new. Next time, learn to duck faster."

"I certainly shall endeavor to do so. But, if you're not too busy with another patient, could you satisfy my curiosity on a couple of points?" Perceptor asked.

"Maybe," said Ratchet as he put away his tools.

Perceptor lowered his voice. "How did you get to Autobot City, Ratchet? You were on the Moon Base, and only one shuttle has come to Earth since then. That shuttle carried Megatron and his followers."

Ratchet glanced at Wheeljack. "You about done with that lens alignment?"

"Just closing up now, Ratchet. Perceptor, I'm about to reboot your optical routines. Your lenses will be offline for a few seconds."

"Perceptor, I started the trip on that shuttle. I didn't finish it. You'll understand tomorrow. And," Ratchet's voice caught for an instant, "it's been good to know you. Goodbye, old friend."

Perceptor's lenses finally came back on line, but Ratchet was nowhere to be seen. "Where did he go?"

"That was a surprise," Wheeljack said, looking at an uninteresting section of wall. 

_Slag it! Wheeljack, I'm a coward. I couldn't lie to Perceptor, and I couldn't tell him either. We've been friends for too long._

_Uh, thank you for dropping it on my head? Good grief, this isn't going to be any easier for me!_

_I know. Sorry about that. Try to break it to him easy._

"I suspect you possess information hidden from my observation," Perceptor said. "I wish you would share it with me. I am quite confused--and I feel like I've lost a friend, somehow."

Wheeljack's ear fins both dimmed. "Not really _lost_ , just... transferred away. Far away. He's right, things will make more sense tomorrow. And I'm afraid I've some bad news for you, my friend: I've got the same transfer. I hate to say goodbye on such short notice, but it's more notice than I originally had, which was none at all."

"Now I'm completely confused. You're leaving?" Perceptor's voice was shaded with dismay.

"I'm sorry, Perceptor, but I am. I can't stay. Take care of the others, okay? You've been a real good friend, and I haven't always been the friendliest bot to be around, but.. thanks for being who you are, and for being my friend."

_"Please!_ Tell me what's going on, and why you have to leave." 

Wheeljack looked at his friend, his very best friend, sitting on the repair table and sighed. "Perceptor, you know what I'm trying to tell you; you just don't want to believe it. I wish you hadn't asked... you've always been my friend, and I didn't want to hurt you sooner than you had to be--but I never lied to you in my life and I'm not starting now."

"I do know what I think you are trying to tell me, but if I understand you correctly, you shouldn't be here telling me that at all. That's what I find rather confusing about all this, and why I suspect I do not understand what you are attempting to tell me."

"Now _I'm_ confused," said Wheeljack.

"We might understand each other better if you stopped trying to spare my feelings and just informed me of the simple facts, cold and cruel as they might be."

Wheeljack's ear fins dimmed again; he stood silent for a moment. Finally, he answered, "The Decepticons killed everyone on the incoming shuttle just after it launched. About three hours ago, Blitzwing shot and killed me."

There was a long silence. "That.. was colder and crueler than I hoped for. You and Ratchet are... ghosts?"

"Something like that." Wheeljack faded from sight.

"Goodbye, Wheeljack. Tell Ratchet goodbye for me."

"I heard. Goodbye, Perceptor, my old friend," Ratchet's voice said softly, then there was only silence.

A few minutes later across the room, First Aid looked up from Sideswipe. "Well, with a bit of rest, he'll be as good as new-- where did everyone go?"

Perceptor looked back at First Aid. "I'd guess back to wherever they dropped in from."

"Well, foobar. I wanted to thank Ratchet for his help before he left; now he'll probably think I'm some rude young know-it-all," First Aid said.

"I doubt there's much danger of that," said Perceptor. "He probably has a good idea how you feel about his help."

# # #

_You did what?? Wheeljack!_

_I told Perceptor what happened, so you might want to, um, steer clear of him, Prowl. He's rather upset right now._

_...._

_That's my fault, I'm sorry to say. I lost my nerve at the last moment and let Mr. Subtlety here make the explanations._

_Thank you, Ratchet--and thank you for making sure Sideswipe didn't join us just yet... I don't think I could handle that._

_I didn't quite catch that last thought, Prowl._

_Never mind, Ratchet. Just keep on doing what you need to do._

_I hate to bust in on this here conversation, Prowl, but things are gettin' a bit hot at the gate. Brawn's looking it over, and the minibots can handle it, but I don't like what's fixin' to happen at the guntower._

_Be right there, Ironhide._


	4. Holding the Gate

"Brawn! Huffer! Devastator's trying to pound the door in again!" Windcharger yelled over the massive CLANG-CLANG of Devastator's fists on the main gate. 

"Can you hold it for a minute?" Huffer looked around and spied a couple of heavy I-beams in the debris and pointed them out to Brawn. "A triangular brace should do it--"

"On it!" Brawn said.

"Yes!" Windcharger activated his magnetic field generators. "A little magnetic reinforcement should help it hold together--"

"Good," Huffer said as Brawn grabbed one of the I-beams by one end and flipped it against the battered door, bracing it. He secured the brace against the floor and door with spot welds from his weapon. He repeated the process with the other I-beam, bracing it against the door and the other I-beam in a triangle.

Huffer examined it with a critical eye. "Yeah, that should hold 'em for a bit--if Springer gets the big gun going again."

"If he's slow, I'll just lean on the door a bit," Brawn said, grinning.

"A better move would be to find some more of those heavy beams," Huffer said. "If we could put a second triangular brace against the ceiling..."

# # #

Prowl tossed the third-to-last crate on top of the stack Ironhide was carrying, then grabbed up the last two. 

_There. That's all the spare ammo I could find--now let's put it where they can actually get at it without fighting the entire Decepticon force._

_There's a storeroom on the floor just below the launcher. Try that one, Prowl._

They vanished with a 'pop' and swirl of displaced air...

_Prowl, they've already checked this storeroom. Convincing 'em to look here again on the chance that they might have overlooked a few thousand rounds of ammo might be a bit tricky._

_We'll improvise._

_Now that's a word I'm not used to hearin' from you!_

_It's the essence of tactics; no battle is ever the same as any other. And for what we're doing, if the book's been written on it, they didn't issue it to me! We're writing our own doctrine on this one, Ironhide._

_Not to mention improvisin' our own tactics, eh, Prowl?_

_Got that in one._

In the launcher room, Arcee kept her voice low as she passed another round to Springer. "Only five rounds left."

Kup said from across the room at the gun port, "You two can stop with the whispering; I'm not so old that I've gone deaf yet, nor have I forgotten how to count."

Daniel looked up, fearfully. "We're running out of ammo, aren't we?"

Kup nodded. "'Fraid so. Once Megatron figures out we're not shooting anymore--well, it isn't looking too good, kid."

"We won't make a stand here," Hot Rod said. "We make a fighting retreat and pull back to another strong point."

"That only works if we can get those buzzards outside off of us."

Hot Rod nodded. "Springer, you and Arcee keep 'em occupied until the ammo runs out, then follow us. Kup, grab Daniel and let's see if we can find a back way out of here."

As he stepped out of the chamber door, a flash of movement at the corner of his eye, toward the stairs, caught Hot Rod's attention. He drew his weapon and froze, waving the others back.

"Something moved--I'm going to make sure it isn't a Decepticon." Hot Rod stalked forward, toward the stairs. Behind him, Kup already had his gun out. Hot Rod very cautiously peered down the stairwell. Nothing moved. He set one foot on the stairs.

A shadow moved where there should not have been a shadow. Hot Rod jumped down, bypassing the stairs, gun out and firing. His shots briefly illuminated the corridor, hitting nothing but the wall at the far end. 

Again nothing--or was it? Hot Rod studied the empty corridor. Something was amiss.

"Kup, get down here, but be ready for trouble." 

Kup scrambled down the stairs with surprising agility, carrying Daniel. "What is it, Hot Rod?"

Hot Rod lowered his voice. "When we searched down here, didn't we leave all the doors closed?" He pointed at the one door that was ajar.

"We sure did," Kup said grimly. "I'll cover you." He put a wide-eyed Daniel behind him and aimed his gun at the guilty door.

Hot Rod suddenly dashed for the door and kicked it wide open, gun in hand and ready to fire. Without stopping, he tucked and dove into the room, coming up to one side looking for a target. "What the--?"

"Hot Rod?" Kup asked after a few seconds of silence and no sounds of battle. "Who is it? What is it?"

"About two thousand rounds of ammo," came Hot Rod's voice, sounding a bit dazed.

Kup and Daniel ran down the hall to stare in amazement.

"There is absolutely no way I could have overlooked _that_ much ammo!" Daniel said.

"Me either," Kup said.

Hot Rod picked up a couple of boxes and hefted them. "They're real enough. Grab what you can carry and lets head back."

Kup grumbled as he did so. "I just want to know who put it here. I'll bet there's a hell of a story behind this."


	5. Blitzwing's Aim

Kup wasn't the first to hear the whistle of the shell screaming in, but he was the first to recognize it for what it was.

"INCOMING!" Kup grabbed Daniel and dove for the floor. Hot Rod fell heavily beside him--

SPANG--WHAAMMM!

The shell exploded on the edge of the gun port, sending shards of metal and reinforced concrete spraying across the room. Shrapnel rattled off Kup's back as he crouched over Daniel, protecting the fragile human boy from the force of the explosion.

Springer said something extremely rude and slammed another shell into the breech of the launcher. Kup got up and looked at the terrified boy still crouched on the ground. Daniel looked back up at him, wide-eyed.

"Daniel, are you okay?" Hot Rod asked.

Daniel looked puzzled. "I can't hear anything!"

"What?" It was Hot Rod's turn to look confused.

Kup said, "A lot of beings don't have good audio cutouts. The explosion may have damaged his ears." The old Autobot looked up where the shell had hit, and looked back at Hot Rod. "If you hadn't jumped down when you did, that shell would have taken your head off."

Hot Rod looked back at Kup a bit oddly. "I didn't jump down. Someone pushed me."

The shriek of the incoming shell warned Hot Rod just in time to throw himself over Daniel.

SPANG--WHAAMMM!!

The shell struck the other edge of the gun port, with similar results.

"He's getting the range," Kup observed grimly. "Next one will be right down the middle."

Hot Rod picked up Daniel and shoved him into Kup's arms. "Get Daniel out of here!"

"Don't need to tell me twice," the old Autobot said, running for the door with Daniel in his arms.

"Hot Rod, get yourself out of here and protect Daniel!" Springer yelled. "I can handle the gun, and Arcee can fetch the ammo. My armor's heavy enough to take the pounding, yours isn't!"

"All right, but don't stay too long! Retreat when you can't hold this position any longer!"

"Like I said, I got better things to do tonight than die!" answered Springer, lining up another shot. This time he aimed at Megatron's head, just for variety.

There was a dull 'krump' as a third shell slammed into the armored turret above the gun port. Dust drifted down.

Ghostly and invisible, Prowl and Ironhide looked down from the gun port sill. 

_Prowl, I'm gettin' real tired of Blitzwing's target practice._

_So am I, Ironhide. So am I._

Two shells slammed into the strong point below the gun port, the second one just above the other.

_He's finding the range. One or two more shots, and he'll be puttin' 'em right into Springer's face. And Springer can't run--if he does, Megatron and Devastator break down the gates and overrun the place._

SPANG--WHAAMM!!

The sixth shell clipped the upper edge of the gun port, forcing Springer to duck as shrapnel showered the room.

_It would be a whole lot simpler if we could just shoot him._

_You know better than that, Ironhide. We're not here to kill anyone; we're here to protect them._

_Yea, I know--but how are we going to protect them from Blitzwing there?_

_We'll improvise. And Ironhide?_

_Yea?_

_We're not here just for Autobots... or humans. Not anymore._

_I'm going to have a hard time with that one, Prowl._

_It'll be easier than you think, old friend. It's not our job to protect them from the consequences of their own actions. Let them reap what they've sown. Just... trust yourself. You'll know when it's time to step in._

_I know. But settin' aside a few million years o' bad memories isn't that easy._

_I know that, too. But we can, even if it isn't easy. That's why we're here, and not someone else._

_'We'? Yea, I'm not the only one with a few million years of those bad memories._

_Not hardly._

From the roof of another turret, Blitzwing, in tank mode, sighted his cannon very carefully. Laserfire zapped somewhere nearby. "One more round, and I'm golden."

WHA-WHA-WHAAM!

A series of explosions rocked his position, and Astrotrain flew up in robot mode, firing his gun at the turret below Blitzwing. It caved in, sending Blitzwing sliding down the pile of debris.

"What the slag do you thing you're doing?" Blitzwing yelled at his fellow triple-changer. "You just messed up my shot completely!"

"You were so busy playing sniper tank, you didn't even notice Blurr using you for cover! He's been dumping flanking fire into us ever since you decided to set up there, and we couldn't shoot back because we'd hit you, you big idjit!" Astrotrain snapped. 

_Wha--? I didn't have anything to do with **that**!_

_Well, Prowl, some of the youngsters can fight, you know. Pretty sneaky move of Blurr's. Reminds me of some of the stunts you've pulled._

"Well, you ruined my spot. Now I got to find another angle on that gun tower, thanks a heap," Blitzwing grumbled as he shifted into robot mode. "This is like the thousandth time today I've tried to shut that thing down, and one thing or another has gone foobar every single time! One more glitch, and Devastator can damn well go beat up that gun tower himself."

"How about over there?" Astrotrain pointed at a low rise that had once been a heliport, but was now a relatively flat pile of rubble.

"Like you know jack about where's the best place to set up artillery! Yeah, over there will do." Blitzwing and Astrotrain flew to the small rise in robot mode.

When they arrived, two Autobots were waiting for them. Moonlight and flames from the burning fortress-city illuminated them plainly; Blitzwing wondered how they'd gotten there without him noticing.

"Find a different target, Blitzwing," Prowl said. "We're getting tired of you shooting at this one." His gun pointed almost negligently at Blitzwing's midsection. Ironhide stood beside him, stolid, red and implacable, his chemical rifle pointing at Astrotrain.

"And you can just move along, Astrotrain," Ironhide drawled.

Blitzwing just stared long and hard at the two Autobots.

"Why you--" Astrotrain started to raise his gun; Blitzwing clamped his hand on the barrel and shoved it down.

"What do you think you're doing?" Astrotrain asked indignantly.

"Stopping you from doing something really stupid."

"You don't think--"

"I _think_ I'm looking down the gun of someone whose corpse I rested my feet on for a six hour shuttle flight. I _think_ I watched Megatron blow off the head of the guy standing next to him. I _think_ that Devastator can go take care of his own damn gun tower."

"Good thought," said Prowl.

# # #

_Prowl, I never would have thought to try asking nicely. Decepticons ain't usually that agreeable._

_*chuckle* I think Blitzwing felt guilty about something._

_Yea, scuffing up your paint with his feet._

# # #

  
  


Blitzwing switched to plane mode to catch Astrotrain as he flew at high speed away from the embattled city. "Where the slag do you think you're going?"

"To find that shuttle!"

"What for? It's right over there." Blitzwing switched to robot mode and pointed at the crashed Autobot shuttle.

Astrotrain dropped to the ground without answering, next to the gaping hole in the shuttle hull.

"What are you doing?" Blitzwing snarled.

The big purple-and-gray triple-changer whirled to face him. "I'm going to find out which one of us was imagining things!" 

Blitzwing shrugged. "That's all? Suit yourself."

Astrotrain pushed his way past the wreckage and disappeared into the interior of the crashed shuttle. Blitzwing waited patiently.

Presently Astrotrain came crashing out of the shuttle, visibly shaking as he fought not to switch to train mode and run. "Blitzwing! They were _dead!_ "

"I did mention that, didn't I? Not my fault you were at the back of the bus and didn't see it yourself. You could have believed me." Blitzwing sounded slightly miffed.

"Do you know what this means?"

"Well," Blitzwing said slowly, "I figure it means that come the day someone blows out _my_ laser core, it ain't the end of _me_. With all the shells and laser blasts that have been flyin' past my head today, that's kind of comforting."


	6. Missing Person

Immediately outside the main gate of Autobot City was Decepticon territory--nothing moved there save by Megatron's leave. The gate itself was still hotly contested, and further out, toward the U.S. Army perimeter, was no man's land. Smoking ruins of outbuildings, roadblocks, and vehicles dotted the landscape. The smoldering wrecks were the worst--each one represented a life, sometimes more than one.

To the northeast lay the crashed shuttle and its dead; on the road to Autobot City, Huffer had fallen, in a trail of blasted metal shards strung out along the road in a sequence of craters. On a low ridge several hundred yards from the gate, in plain sight of Megatron and the others there, lay the broken body of Trailbreaker, a smudge of black against the red sandstone rock. The setting sun painted him the color of old blood just before it sank into the western horizon.

A figure in white knelt beside the fallen Autobot, accompanied by another in white and gray, brightly painted, glossy metal that contrasted dramatically with the rough dark rock in the moonlight. For all that, most were just too blind to _see_. 

_He's not dead; he's badly damaged and in stasis lock,_ Ratchet noted.

_I thought he was too quiet to be dead,_ Wheeljack commented. _Is he stable?_

_No. I can do some emergency patching here in the field, but Trailbreaker really needs to be in the repair bay._

_That's going to be a challenge, with Megatron and his goons right over there at the gate! Not to mention the City being sealed up in fortress mode. Too bad we can't just port him like Ironhide and Prowl did with the ammo._

_Ammo doesn't have a Spark to get detached from being yanked outside of Time and re-inserted. Trailbreaker arriving dead would defeat the whole purpose of rescuing him, don't you think?_

_Yeah, I know, but..._

_If we dawdle too long wishing it weren't so, one of those Cons may get bored enough to come over and finish Trailbreaker off. To quote Prowl, "We'll improvise."_

_Er, what am I responsible for now?_ Prowl asked.

_A phrase that is now stuck in my processor,_ answered Ratchet. _Find Mirage or Hound or both; I need one of them to rescue Trailbreaker. He's exposed on a ridge not seven hundred yards from Megatron's back._

Prowl sighed. _What's your status?_

_I'm busy making sure Trailbreaker doesn't fall into more pieces than he already is. Wheeljack is assisting me and distracting them. If you're too busy to find Mirage or Hound, ask the minibots. I get the impression they want something challenging to do._

_That is exactly what I was about to do. Huffer! I need you and your crew to find Mirage or Hound, preferably both._

_If we can find them in all this chaos--which is far from guaranteed--and they aren't in the middle of something important--like fighting for their lives, or out cold in the repair bay, more likely--just what are we supposed to do when we find them?_ Huffer asked.

_Point 'em at Trailbreaker--out here in front with us,_ Ratchet interrupted Prowl before he could answer. _He's in need of rescuing, Huffer._

_Yes, I heard the situation. I see why you want Mirage or Hound. You know what you're asking is probably impossible?_

_Yep. I'm sure you can handle it._

Ratchet carefully probed the gaping hole in Trailbreaker's chest and frowned.

_Wheeljack, go keep an eye on Megatron. If he even thinks of looking this way, distract him. Trailbreaker's been out here too long; his backup power supply was damaged and he's almost out of power to maintain stasis lock. I've got to stop the power drain **now**_. 

_And you can't do that when you're immaterial, check. But didn't Ironhide--_

_There's just a wee bit of difference between pushing someone off a wall and emergency surgery._

_Point._

Wheeljack shifted from here to _there_ \--a whisper of a ghost of a presence, unknown to the Decepticons, but close enough to touch... were there anything solid enough to touch.

Megatron stood to his left and just a little bit in front of him; Soundwave was to his right. Both watched Devastator swing at the gate; Megatron with a pleased smile, and Soundwave with his usual stolidity. Two battered Insecticons--Shrapnel and Kickback--huddled near Soundwave, cringing whenever one of the big gun's shells hit nearby. 

Meanwhile, Ratchet calmly bent and snipped wires in Trailbreaker's chest, isolating the shorted power supply. All the while, he knelt in plain sight in the moonlight, visible to anyone who happened to look that way.

_This is not a view I'm used to having,_ observed Wheeljack. _Now I know why Mirage likes to run around invisible all the time._

Another one of Springer's shells exploded nearby--Soundwave flinched, the Insecticons shrieked softly and ducked behind Soundwave. Megatron raised his left arm to shield his face for a moment, then lowered it, scowling.

"Why is that gun still firing at us? Soundwave! Find out why Blitzwing hasn't shut it down yet!" Megatron snapped.

Lights blinked on Soundwave's chest; the dark blue mech bowed his head, as if meditating for a few moments. "Blitzwing: out of communication. Astrotrain: reports intermittent comm failure," he reported.

"I'll 'comm failure' the both of them when this is over! That excuse is older than Cybertron!" Megatron growled. "They're too busy entertaining themselves chasing stray Autobots, no doubt." The big silver mech looked skyward for signs of his wayward triple-changers--

_Uh-oh! Freeze, Ratch!_

Megatron scanned the horizon behind his position briefly; his gaze skipped over the motionless blotch that had adorned the ridge for most of the day. He then concentrated on looking forward, trying to pick out which set of dark silhouettes and moonlight glints over the City were his triple-changers. 

_Whew! Okay, you can move now._

Another shell exploded among the Decepticons gathered at the gate.

"Enough of this!" snapped Megatron. "DEVASTATOR! FORGET THE GATE, SHUT DOWN THAT GUN TOWER!" Megatron roared at the Constructicon gestalt. 

He turned to Soundwave. "Remind me to think up a suitable punishment for Blitzwing when this battle is over. I will not tolerate either failure or insubordination from him! At least Starscream is doing his job today..."

_Ratchet, you about done there? Megatron is getting cranky and restless--seems Blitzwing and Astrotrain are AWOL._

_*Laughter*_

_Private joke, Ironhide?_ asked Wheeljack.

_Not hardly--but you two were busy in the repair bay. Catch you up on it later._

_Give me five more minutes, Wheeljack,_ Ratchet answered.

As Devastator ripped off a chunk of outer defensive wall and hurled it at the gun tower, Megatron shifted his gun arm to a ready position and looked around--

_Freeze! Uh-oh, he's definitely looking your way._

His helmeted head stopped swiveling; Megatron peered at the white blotch on the ridge. Had something moved over there? His cannon pointed carelessly at Devastator's back--

SHRRRACK!

There was a flash of brilliant pinkish-white light and a scream of pain from Devastator, followed by the crash of a collapsing wall as the gun tower finally gave way under Devastator's assault--even as Devastator collapsed into six angry Constructicons. Megatron looked at his smoking cannon in momentary horror, then turned his attention to the upset Constructicons.

_All right, that's got it! What happened over there, Wheeljack?_

_Megatron's cannon accidentally went off. Somehow._

_Uh-huh. I'm sure it did._

_Hey, pushing a button is lots easier than emergency surgery!_

_# # #_

Hound ducked as a string of bombs shrieked by and exploded about twenty yards from where he was hiding--and right in the middle of the hologram image of himself he'd been projecting. As the smoke cleared, Hound switched that image for one of a suitably brewed-up Hound. Thrust and Ramjet were getting a little too accurate for his tastes--time to get back under cover.

Black smoke spewed into the open, completely shrouding the holographic wreckage. Thrust pulled up, aborting his bombing run.

"Come on, buddy!" yelled Smokescreen. "Get your aft over here before they come back!"

Hound dove blindly across the open alleyway and through the hatch Smokescreen held open. "Just in time! They had me trapped out there, and I was running out of corners to pretend to not be in!" 

Smokescreen slammed the hatch closed just as the wicked whine of jet turbines rose to a crescendo; cluster bomblets cracked and boomed outside. Smokescreen tilted his head and listened to the detonations. "Looks like they don't care what they hit, as long as they hit something."

"Yeah, let's move to another strong point before the smoke clears and they drop armor-piercing missiles on the roof," Hound answered. 

By way of answer, Smokescreen shifted to auto mode and led the way. Hound transformed and followed. Just as they left that section of corridor, the roof exploded. The explosion caused Smokescreen to lose control and skid into Hound, slamming Hound into the corridor wall. Already weakened by bombardment, the wall and ceiling collapsed, pinning them both beneath tons of debris.

"Hound? You there?" a voice called.

"Unnnh--I think so," Hound said from under the debris. "Can't move; something's pinning my front end."

Hound heard debris being shifted and thrown aside. "Hang on, we'll get you out!" came Smokescreen's voice.

"Who's with you? And watch out for those blasted Cons! I'm safe under here, you can come back and get me when they're busy somewhere else," Hound replied.

"They _are_ busy somewhere else," yelled Smokescreen. There was a clang as armor plate landed on the floor somewhere, drowning out whatever Smokescreen said next.

"This'll only take a minute!" yelled the voice that had first called Hound. 

The pressure on Hound's front-end eased--then he howled in pain as something tugged at his radiator. "STOP! Something's stuck in me!"

"Uh-oh," came that first gruff voice--Hound thought he recognized the speaker, now that the debris no longer muffled his voice. "Ratchet ain't going to like that."

"Brawn?" Hound asked.

There was a crash of metal as a pile of smaller debris was unceremoniously shoved aside, and Hound could finally see.

"Yeah?" Brawn grinned at him as he tossed another slab of armor plate aside. Smokescreen looked over the orange minibot's head at Hound.

"Ouch! You've got a pipe through your radiator! Don't try transforming," Smokescreen said. He stepped around Brawn and peered at the chunk of debris impaling Hound's front grill. Brawn finished pulling debris off the rest of Hound.

"Brawn, what are you doing here?" Hound said. "I thought--"

"Looking for you," Brawn interrupted. "Didn't expect the roof to fall in when I found you!" The burly minibot waved his hand at the debris and shrugged. He looked at the red and blue Autobot standing beside him. "Hey, Smokescreen, do you think it's safe to pull that pipe out of Hound's radiator?"

"I don't know--he's got a coolant leak here," Smokescreen pointed to the puddle of green fluid dripping on the floor.

_Raaatchet! Hound's got a pipe through his radiator pinning him down, should I pull it?_

_Is he leaking anything, Brawn? Is he online?_

_He's online, and leaking coolant._

_Pull the pipe, get him to transform, and have him shut his engine down until that leak gets fixed._

_Got it!_

Brawn nodded, grabbed the pipe, and pulled.

"YOWWCH!" Hound yelled as the pipe ripped back out of his radiator, taking part of his grille with it. "Slaggin' spawn of a rusted tractor! Brawn! Next time, let First Aid do it!" 

"Ah, quit your whining! Now you got to transform and shut your engine off before it melts. Gonna see if I can get Ratchet or Wheeljack down here to patch that leak," Brawn said, tossing the pipe aside.

Smokescreen looked oddly at Brawn. "Wheeljack?" There was a very big question mark in his tone.

Brawn looked up at the red and blue Autobot. "There something wrong I don't know about?" he said, dissembling.

"Yeah. Last I saw Wheeljack, he was in pretty bad shape--deactivated, at least," Smokescreen said. "We got pushed out of the main gate area by Blitzwing and Astrotrain. Not everyone made it out." Smokescreen looked at the floor. "Your buddy Windcharger was one of the ones who didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Brawn looked at him, dumbfounded. "I don't believe it!" 

_I don't believe this! Windcharger! Smokescreen knows both you and Wheeljack are dead, and just blurted it out to Hound. And me! Now what do I do?_

_Oops? I guess me and Huffer will stick with looking for Mirage!_ replied Windcharger.

_Hey, play to your strengths, Brawn!_ suggested Wheeljack. _Dig your heels in, be stubborn, deny the obvious._

_I love ya too, Wheeljack! Somebody needs to get over here and patch Hound's leak, because 'handy with tools' describes someone besides me!_

Smokescreen spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "You've seen the fighting. No guarantees any of us are going to make it." He shook his head. "Maybe they're just offline, I didn't exactly have time to check, you know?"

"I'll believe it when I see it! If they're down, Ratchet'll take care of 'em both, you'll see." 

Hound transformed with a groan. "I don't feel so good."

"Kill your engines," Smokescreen reminded him. 

Hound sat down on a pile of debris. "Not going anywhere now," he said. 

"Hang on, I'm trying to raise Ratchet," Brawn said. "He was out in the field doing some emergency repairs last I heard from him..."

_Wheeljack! Stop fooling around with Megatron and come keep an eye on Trailbreaker. I'll see to Hound,_ Ratchet informed them.

_'Fooling around with Megatron'? Do I want to know?_ asked Prowl distractedly.

_Probably not,_ advised Ratchet.

_You've found Hound, he's injured--Huffer, what's the status on locating Mirage?_

_No luck, Prowl. He's not in the repair bay, and we haven't seen him in any of the fighting around the City. He's probably dead in an alley somewhere._

_No. Huffer, we'd have noticed if Mirage was dead,_ replied Prowl.

_Hmph. He's probably offline under a pile of debris, then._

_Or just gallivanting around invisible,_ offered Ironhide.

"Hey, Brawn--while we're waiting, why were you looking for me anyway?" Hound said.

"'Cause we need to rescue Trailbreaker--he's out front of the gate on the ridge, and hurt bad," Brawn said. "Need you or Mirage or both--know what I mean?"

Smokescreen gave Brawn and Hound a worried look. "Out in front of the gate? That's where Megatron was!"

Hound chuckled. "I figure that's why it's my job or Mirage's--got to snatch Trailbreaker out from under their noses."

Once Ratchet finally turned up, it took him less than ten minutes to patch Hound's coolant leak. "Next time, don't wait for the wall to fall on you before you move," he said with a tolerant smile.

_Prowl! I got an idea!_ announced Windcharger. _Need your access codes!_

_My access codes? What for? That's restricted information--_

_Prowl, I don't think that matters anymore,_ Ironhide gently chided.

_.... Right. Old habit; forget I mentioned that. 'BLUE42:Q:QR2' should get you everything. What are you doing in my files, anyway?_

_...and now the entire Allspark knows where to find Prowl's mortal secrets,_ commented a deep, mellifluous mind-voice with a chuckle. _Anything interesting in there? Forbidden art? Blackmail material?_

_Cadence, don't you have something you should be doing?_

_I do, and I am indeed doing it, though the success of our endeavors will not be known until some time later than yours, I fear. I was curious as to how your mission was progressing. Good luck, my once-enemy._

_Good luck, Cadence._

_Our 'mission'?_ queried Ironhide.

_That is one way of describing it,_ Prowl answered. _'Seek those who need you, find the lost, calm the fearful, protect the innocent, comfort the dying' -- and while we're at it, try to make sure as many people on both sides get out of here in one piece, or 'very bad situation' goes to 'absolute worst'._

_Oh yeah, that. Figures an ex-Decepticon would think of that as 'a mission'. Seems to me the first part is just a good definition of what we're all about._

_# # #_

In the midst of battle, Red Alert's office should have been deserted. Instead, two mini-bots stood at his desk, tampering with the security chief's computer.

"Huffer, we have the access codes! How long does it take to find the stupid duty roster?" Windcharger asked, jumping up and down beside the orange and blue mini-bot.

"Windcharger, in all my years did I ever tell you how to fight? In all your years, did you ever tell me how to build something? I'll find it when I find it," Huffer answered. "Assuming it didn't get accidentally deleted from a power surge or something."

He pulled up another file on the screen. "Mirage's battle station was the northern gate--he should have been somewhere near the bridge. According to the duty roster, he was on duty in that area, so he would have been able to get there in time."

Windcharger looked thoughtful. _Hey guys--if you're Mirage the Invisible Sharpshooter, stationed at the north bridge, what do you do when the Decepticons come pouring in?_

Prowl's answer came quickly. _Flank the Decepticons invisibly and start picking off susceptible targets._

_Only there aren't any Decepticons faceplanted in the dirt out there, so I figure something happened to Mirage early on, which means he's somewhere around the bridge._

"Huffer, can you find the North Gate security video? Watch around the time the Cons attacked," Windcharger said.

Huffer looked at him sourly. "I suppose we need it right now, too. Maybe I can find it. If it didn't get erased when the camera was blown up, and if Prowl's code works for the security cams, and if..." He fiddled with the computer a bit more and a video started playing on the monitor, showing the North Gate area. Both of them watched it intently.

"Okay, there's Hot Rod coming hellbent for leather with the Decepticons behind him, and they've already started transforming the city, the bridge is retracting--there! See that?" Windcharger pointed at a momentary flicker on the screen. "Back it up and slow it, 'kay?"

"I saw it--okay, there." Huffer paused the video. "Yep, that's Mirage. Looks like he's running across the bridge _away_ from the city--Prowl's right about his tactics."

"Play the rest of it--does he show up again?" 

"Probably not, but we'll watch it anyway," Huffer said. 

"Oh that was a neat move with the Insecticons!" Windcharger said admiringly as he watched Hot Rod's leap into the city. "Hold it! Right there, someone backshot Bombshell!" Windcharger mentally back-tracked the shot-- "Came from somewhere across the bridge. Ouch! Megatron tossed off a shot in that direction, and someone fell." He watched until the video suddenly cut off, and then shook his head. "Didn't see anything more. Should have at least seen a downed mech, if Megatron hit _anyone but Mirage_." His optics brightened and the blue and red mini-bot smiled wickedly.

"Huffer, let's go find the invisible man!" Windcharger clapped Huffer on the shoulder. "He's got to be one of two places--in the ditch, or just on the edge of it near the road." 

Huffer shut down Red Alert's terminal and straightened things back up the way he'd found them. "Maybe. If we get lucky. Just..."

"What, Huffer?" Windcharger had already faded from sight. 

"Just don't look too far down the road." Huffer faded as well.

"Bad, huh?"

"Very bad." 

# # #

It didn't take the two mini-bots very long to find the scrape marks where something heavy had rolled or slid down the outer wall of the ditch to its floor. Following the trail of dirt and debris, Windcharger all but tripped over the unconscious body of Mirage.

_Ratchet! We found Mirage, and he's hurt._

_Windcharger, I'll be right there as soon as I can shake loose from Hound and Smokescreen._

_Ratchet, we might need Hound to get Mirage clear..._

_I figured that out. That's why Brawn is sticking with them._

_Yep, sure am! Uh, one thing guys... just keep me up on who knows which one of you is dead, so I don't nearly shove my big fat foot in my mouth again._

_Hey! I was too far offline to pay attention to sightseers, 'kay?_ Wheeljack protested.

_It's probably a safe bet that anyone who was holding the north gate area knows me and Wheeljack are, um, not among the officially functional anymore,_ pointed out Windcharger.

_And if Hot Rod and Kup don't know that Huffer didn't make it, they're a lot stupider than I thought,_ Prowl added.

_And everybody who knew who was coming in on that shuttle today is giving me **real** funny looks, if you know what I mean, _ Ratchet commented.

_You ain't the only one getting funny looks!_ Brawn countered.

_Trust me, they weren't half as funny as the looks Ironhide and I got from Blitzwing,_ Prowl added drily.

_*guffaw*_

_I'll bet!_

_This has to do with why he and Astrotrain are AWOL, right?_ Wheeljack asked.

_Yes._

_You're not going to tell me, are you?_

_Later, Wheeljack._

_Nice to know you're still the same old Prowl..._

A few minutes later, Ratchet was suddenly there, another spectral presence alongside the spectral mini-bots. He knelt by Mirage.

_Oh, this is cute! I'm intangible and he's invisible. At least he's in better shape than Trailbreaker--doesn't feel like he's ready to up and join us at any moment._

Ratchet looked from one hopeful, concerned minibot to the other. He made his decision and nodded.

_Huffer, I'm going to need your help here. Windcharger, go up top and keep an eye on Megatron--overcome any urge you have to pull triggers that don't belong to you. And keep an eye out for those lousy Seekers--I'm more worried about them flying overhead at the wrong moment than I am that Megatron will suddenly get worried about what's behind him and under his feet._

Deep in the shadow of the ditch, Ratchet was the faintest of pale shapes; more shadowy still was the form of Huffer. The Autobot medic ran fingers over an invisible shape; there was a very faint 'click'.

"I've got to deactivate Mirage's invisibility field by feel," he told Huffer. "Then we can see what needs to be done."

"That's nearly imposs--"

A second click, and Mirage flickered into sight. An ugly hole marred his midriff on the left side, scorched and discolored metal on the edge giving way to melted armor and charred wiring. Ratchet probed carefully in the damaged area.

"Mmm, looks worse than it is. Mostly surface damage--he must have been at extreme range--but I need to disconnect the pain receptors or he's going to wake up screaming," Ratchet noted. Deft fingers opened and adjusted connections deep in Mirage's torso. "He won't be transforming until he gets some repair, though."

"And if he'd been at closer range?" Huffer asked.

"Let me put it this way-- _I_ was at close range," Ratchet answered rather drily.

Huffer winced. "Um, so why's he still offline?" 

_"_ I suspect the shock threw him into stasis lock. His auto-repair system would have brought him out of it soon enough, I'm just hurrying things along a bit. Ah, there we go."

Mirage's optics flickered, then lit up with a dim blue glow. He looked up at the two Autobots. "Ratchet? Huffer? What's going on now? How bad am I--?"

"You've got an ugly hole that looks nastier than it is, you won't be transforming until we can get you to a repair bay, and Megatron is upstairs shooting up the place with the rest of his goons, so I'd be, ah, discrete if I were you," Ratchet quickly told him. "We need your help for a rescue."

Mirage sat up and reset the switch controlling his invisibility field. "But first you had to rescue me. How droll!" he said in a tone of dry amusement. He looked up, and listened to the sounds of battle raging nearby. 

_"_ However did you manage to find me? And get past that ruckus upstairs?" Mirage asked as he stood up. "And who needs rescuing?"

"It's a long story that involves some seriously unauthorized use of Red's computer. Trailbreaker is out on the ridge in full sight of the Decepticons, and he's in bad shape--I'm not betting on his chances if he stays out there much longer, if he's even still alive. 'Cons think he's dead, I don't. Figure between you and Hound, we just might be able to extract him," Ratchet said.

"Now I just need to get out of this ditch, and I can scout the situation," Mirage mused, looking up at the steep metal slope. 

"Ratchet and I can boost you out," said Huffer.

"And how will you two get out?" Mirage countered.

"Same way we got down here. Don't worry, we'll manage our end. Once you've sized up the situation, raise Hound on your channel and fill him in on your plan. I'll be expecting to see you and Trailbreaker in the repair bay soon. If I'm not there, First Aid will be," Ratchet answered.

Mirage nodded. "Will do. Gentlemen, let's do it!" 

Like some wall of difficulty had fallen, everything after that fell neatly into place, like the perfect plan elegantly executed. Mirage made his way to Trailbreaker as Hound sneaked out of Autobot City under the cover of his own holograms. So smoothly as to be downright boring, Mirage hefted Trailbreaker to his shoulders under the cover of Hound's hologram, turned his invisibility field on to cover them both, and carried the badly wounded Autobot back to the city while Hound maintained the illusion that Trailbreaker still lay on the ridge.

_Gentlemen, that was very well done!_ Ratchet noted approvingly. 

_Seems like you did most of the work, Ratchet. Megatron didn't even look back the whole time you had me playing lookout--not much work for me,_ replied Windcharger.

_Seems to me you guys found Hound and Mirage in the first place,_ Ratchet pointed out. _Wheeljack, let's see if First Aid needs help with Trailbreaker. And Prowl?_

_Yes, Ratchet?_

_Mission accomplished. You can have Huffer's crew back now._

_Affirmative!_

_# # #_

"Astrotrain, is it just me, or can Ramjet not bomb in a straight line even if it's drawn on the ground for him?" Blitzwing circled over the burning fortress, looking for his next target.

"It's his habit of ramming his head into solid objects, like Autobots and the ground. Messed up his gyros a long time ago," replied Astrotrain, who was also looking for targets he could shoot from above.

"I see that 'dead' Autobot is gone from the ridge outside the gate," said Blitzwing, drifting into formation with Astrotrain.

"Mmm-hmm."

"I see the white Autobot whose name we won't mention because he can't possibly be there--and that we didn't shoot at because he's not actually there because we both _know_ he's laying dead in that shuttle--isn't wandering around repairing wounded Autobots out in the field any more."

"Mmm-hmm!"

"And that other guy that Skywarp and Thundercracker shredded while I was chasing Hot Rod, he's not--"

"Blitzwing--Just shut the hell up! Now." Astrotrain's fire control radar locked onto Blitzwing's jet form.

"I wasn't saying anything more." Blitzwing said innocently.

"Mmm-hmm." Astrotrain managed to squeeze a truckload of sarcasm into a two-syllable grunt.

"...Just a thought I had..."

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" Astrotrain's fire control radar lit up again.

"You're no fun anymore," Blitzwing said sulkily.

"DEAD MECHS ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE RUNNING AROUND LIKE THAT!"

"Well it's not my fault! Sheesh, what are you taking your temper out on me for? Just because I'm pointing out facts you don't happen to like..." Blitzwing sounded aggrieved.

"You are deliberately tormenting me and you know it!"

"Yep. Enjoying it, too. This opens up whole new possibilities--I hope the day I get scrapped, I can then fly around annoying the hell out of my enemies." From the tone of his voice, Blitzwing was grinning from audial to audial.

"Blitzwing, if you'd stop joking around for five minutes and _think_ \--"

"I'd what?"

"In all the years of this war, and in all the battles we've fought, have you ever seen the ghosts of the dead? Ever had them _talk_ to you before? Blitzwing, something is seriously _wrong_ \--and I don't mean in the sense of 'Megatron's latest plan just blew up in his face' wrong, but 'the stars all just went out and gravity doesn't work anymore' Seriously Fragging Wrong!"

"Yeah, I kinda figured that. So what do you do?" Blitzwing waggled his ailerons by way of a shrug. "Me, I figure I'll keep my eyes open and my head down and survive best I can."

"It'd be easier to plan on survival if we knew _what_ was going down. I've got a hunch it's going to get crazier before it gets better. Watch your aft, Blitzwing."

"Watch yours, 'Train."

"You got that right."


	7. The Retreat

Daniel shivered with exhaustion as Hot Rod carried him to yet another strong point. It had been late afternoon of a busy day when the shuttle came down, and there'd been no stopping, no rest since. Devastator had finally taken out the gun tower with a thrown slab of armored wall, and the Autobots were on the run, retreating and fighting, retreating and fighting. Hot Rod carried the boy everywhere, cradled in his arms, shielding Daniel with his armored body. Though still half-deaf from Blitzwing's shelling of the gun tower, Daniel twitched at every explosive blast, every snap of laser fire, every clash of metal on metal.

During one lull in combat, as Springer took control of yet another gun turret, Daniel spoke hesitantly to Hot Rod. "Hot Rod-- please, is Wheeljack--can he be fixed? And Windcharger, what about him? They looked so--broken. But Dad's told me about him and Grandpa and Ratchet fixing Bumblebee and the others when they were totally _ruined_ and he had no hope but..."

Hot Rod slowly shook his head. "This is different," he said--

"No! Please, it can't be!" Tears of grief and exhaustion ran down Daniel's face. "Wheeljack showed me his newest project yesterday--it was so cool--he can't be dead! He just can't! An' he took me fishing the day school got out, like you did today, and Windcharger, I took him mountain-climbing last week, and..." The boy looked at Arcee. "Please tell him he's wrong! They can't be really dead, someone can fix them, right?"

Arcee looked at young Daniel, cradled in Hot Rod's protecting arms. Her expressive face showed only sadness. "Daniel... there's a lot of things about us that can be fixed, but there's one kind of damage that can't. There's a piece of us--the lasercore--that holds whatever it is that makes us more than just smart drones that can talk." She hesitated for a long moment. "I have basic medical sensors--there was no life force in them. Windcharger's lasercore was definitely destroyed, and I'm pretty sure Wheeljack's was as well."

Daniel turned his face to Hot Rod's hood and sobbed, tears running down his face and onto the Transformer's brightly painted metal skin like drops of rain.

_Aw, Daniel! This is the part of dyin' that really hurts! An' the poor kid don't even know about us, yet._

_He will. Once the fighting is over, they'll search the shuttle, trying to figure out what happened._

_Aw, Prowl! Ya had to go and remind me of that! Going to be enough grief for everyone--_

_I know, Ironhide. I know._

_You're thinking of Jazz, aren't you?_

_Yes._

_Hey guys, what's with the sad thoughts over there? Someone die?_

_Just us, Windcharger._

A shifting of presences from there to here.

_Poor kid! It's me and Wheeljack he's hurtin' over, isn't it? Got to be some way to let him know it's okay, we're okay..._

_First, we make sure he survives the night. Going to need your help with that. Second... Windcharger, we're **not** 'okay' from his point of view. _

_We might be if someone just told him! I know I'm fine, and Daniel would know it too if I told him myself!_

_Let's just make sure he survives, first._

# # #

"Slag!" Hot Rod stopped short at the collapsed corridor in front of them. "This area's been blasted out. We'll have to go around, and over the top for a short stretch."

Kup looked at him worriedly. "There's at least four Seekers and the triple-changers flyin' around out there, youngster. I don't fancy our chances out in the open."

Springer, bringing up the rear guard, looked back over his shoulder. "Don't take too long to make up your mind. Someone's bombing that long stretch of corridor we just used, so we ain't going back that way."

Arcee looked around. "Over there," she pointed at an overhead hatch. "There's an access hatch. We can get up top from here..."

"...and hope we don't get gunned down like fish in a barrel out in the open, _and_ that Metroplex recognizes us and lets us in at the next tower," said Kup.

"Or we can wait for the bombers to get here and have no chance at all," said Springer. "What's it going to be, Hot Rod?"

Hot Rod handed Daniel to Kup, seized the valve on the maintenance hatch and cranked it open. "Up and out, as soon as it's clear!"

A trio of Seekers--Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp--buzzed by overhead, making another bombing run on the long access corridor. Hot Rod flipped the hatch open as soon as they passed. "Before they come back, we've got to get to _that_ gun tower. Transform and roll out!"

Hot Rod burned rubber across the roof, followed closely by Arcee and Kup. Springer transformed into a helicopter and followed closely behind, keeping an eye out for the returning Seekers.

"Almost there!" Hot Rod yelled in encouragement--then they heard the scream of jet engines and the roar of a car at full throttle. Daniel bit his lower lip hard, trying not to scream.

A familiar black and white police car screeched tires and bounced across the roof, hurtling under Springer, inches below his landing skids--

The Seeker trio zoomed across the roofs at an angle to their own path, in hot pursuit of Prowl, lasers blazing but missing the car as it swerved and dodged across the roof at insane speeds--

Starscream noticed the other vehicles, tried to bank too sharply, lost control and slammed sideways into a disabled gun tower. He collapsed to the ground, stunned. The other Seekers flashed on by, still in pursuit of the black and white Autobot.

Hot Rod made it to the access hatch and transformed. It wouldn't open. His heart sank; if they had to blast their way in, there would be more than enough time for the Seekers to return and cut them down. And where were the triple-changers? They had to be flying around out there somewhere.

# # #

Astrotrain and Blitzwing were indeed flying about somewhere--high, lazy circles above the city where they could observe the battle, and jump in where needed. The big purple shuttle and the smaller purple jet flew nearly wingtip-to-wingtip.

"That Bot sure is calling attention to himself, isn't he?" noted Blitzwing. "For some reason, I just don't feel the need to dive down there and join in the shooting."

" _Please_ tell me that's Bluestreak making an idiot of Starscream and company," Astrotrain said to Blitzwing.

"You mean the guy you yourself shot off a rooftop about five hours ago? I'd like to tell you that, but Bluestreak doesn't have red lights and a siren. But if it makes you feel any better, just about anyone can make an idiot of Starscream."

"You're not helping!"

"You have to admit, only Starscream could _not notice_ that he's chasing a guy that he killed not twelve hours ago."

# # #

_Uh-oh._

_'Charger?_

_That hatch they're running for is jammed--looks like the controls took a stray shot a while back. My magnetics aren't budging it, either, Brawn._

_Step aside. Ain't nothing like plain old brute force for this!_

Huffer took in the situation. _Brawn. Brawn! BRAWN! PUSH! Not pull!_

# # #

The hatch suddenly gave outwards under Hot Rod's last desperate tug. "Everyone in!"

The Autobots leaped down the hatch as fast as the last one cleared the ladder; Springer came in last, slammed it down and dogged it shut.

Kup, still holding Daniel, looked up at Springer, surprised. "You're closing it manually?"

"Yeah, remote controls are burnt out."

"Then how'd it open in the first place?" Kup looked at Hot Rod. "Was it just stuck?"

Hot Rod shook his head, but hesitantly. "It felt like it was dogged down and locked... but it must have been just stuck, or it wouldn't have opened like that."

"Yep, must have been," said Kup.

Unseen and unheard, Brawn grinned and slapped Windcharger's raised hand with a high five. Windcharger grinned back. Huffer just shook his head at both of them.

"What I want to know is who was that who about took my skids off back there?" Springer asked. "Looked like either Bluestreak or Prowl..."

Arcee looked at him oddly. "Bluestreak was taken to the repair bay a few hours ago, very badly wounded."

Hot Rod also gave Springer a peculiar look. "Prowl... was supposed to come in on that shuttle. Maybe he... made it after all."

"It _was_ Prowl." Daniel spoke up, glad to have some thing to say or do besides hold on and be afraid. "I saw him--got a good look at him."

"Well, I haven't been able to raise him on the command frequency," Hot Rod said. "Maybe his radio is out."

"Yep, that _must_ be it," said Kup.

_# # #_

"Hey, Screamer, watch out for that tower! It's tricky, it might sneak up on ya!" Thundercracker laughed as they circled back around to where Starscream was just getting to his feet. Starscream wobbled slightly, his balance thrown off by the missing segment of the one foot.

Starscream scowled at Thundercracker and Skywarp as they transformed and landed. "I didn't notice you two idiots doing anything about that bunch of Autobots caught in the open! In case you've forgotten what we're doing here, we're supposed to _kill_ them, not play tag with them!" He ran a few steps, jumped into the air, transformed, and flew off.

Skywarp looked at Thundercracker, who looked back at him in turn. "Was it just me," Thundercracker finally asked, "or was that Bot _really_ hard to hit? I mean, he was dodging at high speed, but still..."

Skywarp laughed. "Nah, you just can't shoot!"

"Yeah? So what's your excuse?"

Skywarp shrugged. "Dumb luck on the Bot's part. Come on, let's go find some more targets!" The purple and black Seeker transformed and launched himself into the sky; Thundercracker followed.

Something still bothered him. "Who were we chasing, anyway?" Thundercracker asked his partner over their private comm channel.

"Well, it sure the slag wasn't Prowl! Probably that sniper Bluestreak, or maybe they've got someone new in from Cybertron," Skywarp sounded annoyed by the question. "Does it matter? He had an Autobot sigil, he's a target."

"No, it's just that..." Thundercracker trailed off. How do you tell your partner that you're seeing people who can't be there? 

"Just what?" Skywarp said impatiently.

"Nothing, never mind. You're right, it was probably Bluestreak." It _had_ to have been, Thundercracker told himself. The other possibilities were much too unsettling for a warrior who depended on speed, skill and luck to keep him alive through each battle. If he'd really seen Pr--someone who shouldn't be there, then either his perception subprocessor was glitching--which could kill him right there in a furball--or he was seeing the dead. 

An icy chill ran along Thundercracker's circuits. That only happened, he'd heard, when you were soon to join them.

Yeah, it must have been Bluestreak.


	8. Dark Miracle

Not all miracles came from angels. Some time later, Starscream banked steeply and swung into line with a long, now-roofless corridor. Three Autobots--Tracks, Red Alert and Inferno--caught in the open, stood and fired at the red and blue Seeker; light and heavy laser fire streaked past him.

"Right out in the open? This is too easy!" The Decepticon laughed and commenced his strafing run. His own lasers traced a path of pitted metal down the 'street', pointing inevitably at the exposed Autobots.

Tracks, Red Alert and Inferno heard the scream of the Seeker's turbines as he swooped; each held his ground, firing, trying to get that one good shot on the deadly but lightly armored jet. Time seemed to go into slow motion as the trace of Starscream's laser fire converged inevitably on them. _One of us is going to die here,_ Tracks thought. _If only I can just bring him down--_

"Well, if it isn't my old pal, Red Alert," Starscream laughed to himself as the Autobots came into clear focus, and their fire continued to go wide of him. "I'll teach you not to stand in the open when I'm in the sky!" 

Fire-fire-fire-fire- _shift_ -fire-fire- _shift_ -fire-fire--

Tracks and Inferno flung themselves to the ground as the line of laserfire converged on them. Red Alert didn't move quite fast enough. Tracks watched in horror as two of Starscream's bolts slammed into Red Alert's chest simultaneously. The Autobot Security Chief convulsed once and fell over backwards.

Starscream laughed mockingly as he zoomed up from his strafing run. "That'll teach him!"

"Nooo!" Tracks leaped up and ran to the fallen Autobot. Red Alert lay on his back, darkened optics facing the sky. Tracks stared in disbelief; where Starscream's bolts had hit, there wasn't so much as a scratch in Red Alert's paint. Inferno came and knelt beside him.

"He's... out cold, but still alive," Tracks said, stunned. "How? He should be dead from that hit!"

Inferno looked at the laser trail on the ground pointing toward them, at Red Alert, at the laser trail behind them. "Null ray." The big Autobot shook his head. "I don't know why, but Starscream switched to his null rays just for that shot on Red Alert."

_# # #_

By the time Inferno carried him to the repair bay, Red Alert had started to twitch as function and sensation returned. First Aid was elbow-deep in Trailbreaker's chassis, oblivious to their existence. Ratchet waved Inferno over to his just-cleared worktable. 

Inferno blinked, noted the impatient scowl on the white and red Autobot's face, and decided that _now_ was not the best time to ask Ratchet just how he'd gotten here. _What_ he was doing was self-evident. He laid Red Alert down on the table. There was a clank and clatter in the background as Wheeljack entered, dropped a stack of boxes on the floor, and started rooting through the one on top.

"Well?" Ratchet asked as he looked at Red Alert, whose optics were flickering back on. "Going to tell me where he's hit, or do I guess for a while?"

"Null ray hit him twice, dead center," Inferno drawled. "Weren't sure if Red's circuits were going to come back up right."

"Null ray??" Ratchet popped an access panel and linked a probe to the port he found there. "Why was that slagger using a null ray--oh, never mind. I doubt he stopped to tell you about it." He frowned slightly at the readouts. "Red will be fine, this time. Just tell him to stay out of the line of fire, I got enough work in here!"

Red Alert looked up Inferno and Ratchet. "I'm not dead?"

"No, you're not dead, you're not even seriously hurt, and you're taking up space I need for people that are actually hurt," Ratchet grumbled, then broke off into a slight smile. 

"I don't get it. I should be dead! Starscream hit me square on--" Red Alert scrambled off the table as Ratchet scowled at him.

"Ah'll tell you all about it, Red," Inferno said as he half-dragged his friend from the repair bay. "Ah think you should stop complainin' about not bein' dead, though--it's annoyin' Ratchet. He might fix yer complaint."

Wheeljack handed First Aid a stack of parts and glanced over at Ratchet.

_Ratchet, you looked even grumpier than you did when the Dinobots used the repair bay for a squash court._

_I'm happy Red Alert survived, but it would have been nice if Starscream had decided to get whimsical when he was shooting at, oh, **us**. _

# # #

_Hey, Ironhide! Your old buddy Kup sure doesn't take 'innocent' coincidences at face value, does he?_

_Not hardly, Windcharger. He never did believe in 'coincidence'. He's seen lots weirder things than us in his day, and not forgotten a one of them._

_Yep,_ interjected Ratchet. _Just ask him; he'll tell you_ all _about them!_

_*chuckle*_

_Ratchet, what's your status?_ asked Prowl.

_Same old, same old. Repair bay._

_I thought you and Wheeljack left after Perceptor--_

_And we went back there after he left. Think I'm going to leave First Aid in the lurch? When Mirage, Trailbreaker and now Red Alert have all found interesting new ways to get their afts shot off?_

_But I thought--_

_Don't think so hard, Prowl. You keep doing your job, and I'll keep doing mine, and we'll all be happy._


	9. The Long Wait

Carly would never forget the worst night of her life--the helpless hours of waiting beyond the secure perimeter established by the US Army, not knowing if her only child was alive or dead. As each hour trickled by and the pyrotechnic firefights continued to light up the embattled city for miles around, her fear and dread grew. How could a mere human survive in that hell?

Most civilians had fled the area hours before. Only a handful of vehicles pointed the wrong way at the Army roadblock; only a very select group of humans wanted _in_ to Autobot City. She thought she saw Chip Chase in one of the nearby cars, and Raul had gotten out of the adjacent car--a beautifully restored vintage Ford Mustang--to chat with her. 

The Army sergeant had been polite but firm: _no one,_ not even close Autobot friends were allowed into the war zone. Not even the Army was venturing into that battlefield--but neither were they allowing any Transformers to take the fight outside the perimeter. A certain red Decepticon jet that had patrolled too widely had already been sent limping back for repairs with forty-five depleted uranium slugs peppering his nose and left wing. The heavy armor of Decepticon fliers shrugged off conventional anti-air weapons, but anti-tank weapons worked nicely--and the Air Force pilots in the A-10 squadron shot far straighter than Powerglide ever did.

The sergeant had been horrified and sympathetic when Carly told him her child was in the city; sympathetic enough to call his commanding officer. Fortunately for Carly, Colonel Carlucci had been adamant; no one, not even the President himself, was crossing that perimeter. He did promise that she'd have whatever news they got, although it was very little--one of the Decepticon RPVs was shooting down the Army's reconnaissance RPVs almost as fast as they were sent in.

"That's not an RPV," Carly had told him. "That's Laserbeak."

And so all she could do was sit and wait, terror for Daniel growing in her heart. _Please, God, watch out for Daniel. Please let him be all right._

It was almost twenty minutes before she noticed the black and white police car with no driver that quietly pulled up beside her car at the roadblock. Carly quickly got out of her own car and walked around to the familiar black and white, her emotions pinwheeling between hope and despair. What news did he have?

"Prowl? Prowl! Where's Daniel? What's--"

"Shhh. Get in, we'll talk." His driver-side door swung open; Carly climbed in. "Sorry about sneaking up on you like that; the Army guys aren't too keen on letting even Autobots out until the fight is over."

"Fine. What about Daniel??"

"He's okay. He'll stay okay, trust me on that. Hot Rod and Kup are doing their best to protect him, and Ironhide and I are making sure Daniel stays in one piece."

"You're here, not there," Carly pointed out.

"Right now, yes. I wanted to let you know Daniel was all right."

"If you could get through the perimeter, _why didn't you bring Daniel out?"_

"Carly, please trust me on this. I couldn't bring him out alive on the road I took."

"Can you get me in? Please?"

"No. Carly, I won't risk your life in there; Daniel doesn't need to lose his mother." Prowl hesitated, choosing his words carefully. 

"I don't know if you've guessed how bad it is, but this is no skirmish; Megatron is going for broke. Autobots are dying, have died--all of them 'bots Daniel knows and cares about. He's seen some of us die already. He's been under fire since Megatron attacked, and he's scared. He'll have nightmares about this battle for a long time, if I know anything about humans at all. He'll need you."

Carly shivered. "You're not reassuring me at all!" She felt tears leaking from her eyes, and knew she was a second away from exploding into hysterics. _Control yourself, Carly-girl! Hysterics won't help,_ she told herself silently _._

"Carly, please, please trust me. I promise you that Daniel will survive this battle. Look at your watch," Prowl said.

A bit puzzled by the change in subject, Carly looked at her watch. "I have 2:07 am. But what--?"

"Matches my chronometer close enough. Two things: one, right now at 2:07 am, Ironhide is watching over Daniel. Remember that. Two: in approximately four hours, Optimus Prime and the Dinobots will be here to relieve the city. Every Autobot is doing his best to make sure the city holds until Prime gets here, because he'll make the difference."

"Prowl, if every Autobot is fighting for the city, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be in there, fighting?"

There was a long silence. "Carly, I'd rather not answer that question until tomorrow--it's a bit complicated. Trust me, I'm exactly where I should be."

"And in the morning?" Carly asked.

"After Prime gets here, I'll give you a ride into the city, to find Daniel. The fight will be over long before the Army figures it out and opens the perimeter to let your car through."

"Promise?"

"I promise."


	10. Grounded Jets

Dawn came, and everything changed. The gates fell to Devastator--but Devastator found himself embattled by the Dinobots. The Last Charge of Optimus Prime became a deed of legend.

Prowl watched Prime face Megatron with foreboding.

_I've never seen Optimus like this before, Ironhide. I don't think either one of them is going to walk away from this fight,_ he told the others.

_They're not the only ones,_ answered Ratchet.

Outside the gates, Soundwave staggered to his feet; his cassette mechanism was damaged, but the sheer mass of it had saved him from more serious injury. He tapped his communicator. "Rumble, Frenzy, Laserbeak, Ravage: return. Cassette retrieval currently impossible. Operation: defend the wounded and prepare for evac."

Blitzwing, who had neatly dodged Prime's initial charge and subsequent fire, shifted to plane mode and darted after Thrust, catching the out-of-control red Seeker before he crashed. Somewhere beyond the gates, Devastator broke apart into his component Constructicons under the relentless pounding of the Dinobots. Astrotrain dove into the fray, shooting, punching, dodging, holding Grimlock and Slag at bay until the shaken combat engineers could regain their bearings.

From above, Starscream watched the battle between Optimus Prime and Megatron with horrified fascination, and a certain anticipation. No matter who won, he could turn it to his advantage. 

The rest were not so lucky. Thundercracker half-lifted himself on one arm; where was Skywarp? He could feel fuel leaking from the deep wound in his chest, and things weren't working right. He could barely move; transforming was out of the question. Where was Skywarp?

His visual circuits were glitching; things blurred in and out. He could barely make out the crumpled form of another Decepticon nearby--one of the Insecticons, he thought. Beyond the Insecticon, another form lay; Thundercracker thought he could make out a purple and black wing.

The form of the white and red Autobot crouching beside him snapped into focus. Thundercracker stared at him for a moment. It was the Autobot medic, what was his name again? 

"Ratchet?" Yeah, that was it.

Ratchet looked a bit startled, like he hadn't expected the Seeker to notice him. It occurred to Thundercracker that something was amiss; the Autobot shouldn't be here. He finally remembered why. 

"I'm dying, aren't I?" Thundercracker said, feeling oddly, terribly calm. Deep down, he'd always feared this moment, and now that it was here, he suddenly didn't. Only... he didn't want to leave Skywarp. It just wouldn't be right to do that to his lifelong friend, partner, _brother_ in every non-biological sense of the word.

_"_ I won't lie to you, Thundercracker," Ratchet answered, his voice gentle in a way the Decepticon had never heard from his enemy before. "You'll die if you don't get repairs very soon. If someone can get to you, you have a decent chance of pulling through."

"What about Skywarp? Will he make it?" Thundercracker struggled to sit up, but failed. Most of his servos simply did not respond to his commands.

"Skywarp is as badly wounded as you are, perhaps worse" Ratchet answered. "Again, if he can get repairs in time...."

" _You're_ here. Help me... _please_. Help me help Skywarp. Even if it's just enough to get me to him--don't want him to die alone." Part of Thundercracker--the loud-mouth who lived in the everyday world of Megatron's Decepticon warriors--cringed in horror at what he was asking and who he was asking it of. The better part of Thundercracker knew that that part of him was already dead and just didn't realize it yet. Live or die, he'd never be the same again. And if it meant getting Skywarp help, he'd crawl to Optimus Prime himself and grovel worse than Starscream. 

Ratchet nodded slowly, and unhinged one of Thundercracker's access panels. Something clicked into place, and the light blue Seeker felt, not really better, but like he wouldn't die quite so soon. 

"There, I've re-routed your motor circuits; you should be able to move now. There's a temporary patch on that leak-- _very_ temporary. Try not to take any more damage, it'll pop again very easily." Ratchet looked at the wounded Seeker for a long moment. "I'll see what I can do to stabilize Skywarp."

"Th-thanks," Thundercracker said. "And, for what it's worth... I'm sorry we had to kill you." He turned himself over painfully and began the slow crawl to Skywarp's side.

Ratchet favored him with a small smile. "You're not the one who owes me an apology--but I accept it. For what it's worth."


	11. The Day After

"The wounds... are fatal." Perceptor announced the fateful diagnosis to those gathered by Optimus Prime.

"Nooo!" Daniel cried out and threw himself across Prime's chest, sobbing. The Autobots who'd survived the battle waited somberly as Optimus Prime gathered the last of his strength to do what had to be done.

The Autobots who had not survived the battle also waited, intangible to the living, silently observing. As Prowl had put it, _Prime knows we're here, but he doesn't need any distractions right now. The Matrix is the only thing keeping him alive now, and he's about to give it up. He's got things to do and say before he runs out of the strength to do so._

Prowl stood respectfully aside from the _other_ angel, the Transmetal Angel, who stood beside Optimus Prime. Long, brown, clawed fingers lightly caressed the hilt of a sword as the Angel of Death bided patiently.

_You and yours have done well, Prowl,_ Death told him, inclining his head toward the former Autobot tactician. _This day I have not claimed Mirage, Trailbreaker, Hot Rod, Red Alert, Sideswipe, Hound, Bluestreak, Blitzwing, nor many another._

_Red Alert? But he was only struck by null-rays! He would not have died!_

_Do not be so sure, Ratchet! Had you not been in the repair bay, they would not have brought him there, because First Aid would have been too overwhelmed with the grievously wounded--and Red Alert would have been at the gates when Devastator broke through. He would have fallen to the Constructicons' fire._

_Ah don't recall us doin' much of anything ta help Blitzwing!_

_You made him more alert, more cautious than his wont._ Death smiled that deadly needle-toothed smile. _Thus, he dodged instead of taking Prime's shot through his... lasercore, as you call it. In that, you have done far better than you yet know._ He nodded toward the dying Prime. _I tarry only for him--no more Autobots will fall here. Other work awaits me in space and on Cybertron._ He raised his sword of whirling metal in salute to Prowl.

What was needful to say, was said, and the Matrix passed to Ultra Magnus, and, in time, to its true bearer, Rodimus Prime. His strength finally spent, Optimus, Prime no longer, departed the broken body that could no longer sustain the bright, fierce spark within.

Death touched him and Optimus awoke from the dream of mortality.

# # #

Prowl kept his promise to Carly, and gave her a breakneck ride across the fields to Autobot City that she never forgot. It wasn't until many hours afterwards that Carly realized he had been doing his best to outrun the search and rescue team coming back from the crashed shuttle, and the grim news that they carried. As it was, he just barely beat them into the city.

After he let Carly out at the command center, Prowl transformed to robot mode. He knelt down and held Carly's hand--only to be surprised by her heartfelt hug.

"Thank you, Prowl! Thank you so very much!"

"Carly... there's something I need to say before you go." He hesitated, looking down at the brown-haired woman. "Goodbye, Carly. It's been good to know you and Spike and Daniel; say goodbye to them for me. And please say goodbye to them for Prime and Ironhide and Wheeljack and Ratchet and Brawn and Huffer and Windcharger, too."

"You're going back to Cybertron?" Carly asked, still smiling.

"Not... exactly." Prowl glanced at the somber procession now approaching the wrecked city gate. "But I can't stay, and it'll be a long time before we meet again. Go on upstairs; Daniel needs you now."

Carly nodded mutely and ran upstairs to meet and comfort her grief-stricken son, never noticing that Prowl simply vanished from sight. It would be another hour before she learned the bad news.

# # #

There was no time for grief, or sorting things out; the dead had barely been found and the first awkward questions asked when Unicron struck Moonbase One. There would be no real chance to compare notes until weeks later, when time had blurred memories and reason edited out the events that didn't fit. It would be years before anyone besides Astrotrain got a chance to compare notes with Blitzwing, and no one living ever did hear Thundercracker's story.

Red Alert tasked himself with leading the impromptu search and rescue team investigating the downed shuttle. He knew it would be bad, and he knew he had to hold steady, be an example for the rest of them: Inferno, Hoist, and Springer. He failed. To be fair, Red Alert didn't lose his composure until they pulled the wreckage of Ratchet out of the smashed bridge.

Inferno didn't help one bit when he said, "Well, now I know why Ratchet was so annoyed about yer complainin' that you weren't dead."

Fortunately, Hoist was busy bracing the shattered hull so that recovery could proceed without further hazard, and noticed neither Red Alert's discomfiture nor Inferno's comment. Springer was too busy looking at Prowl's body with a strange expression on his face to notice, either. His expression conveyed the same sort of disbelief that was written on Red Alert's face as he looked at Ratchet's blasted shell.

# # #

First Aid looked at Arcee and the burden she carried in disbelief. "Wheeljack is dead? But how? He and Ratchet were helping me here just a few hours ago..."

Arcee looked back at him, equally disbelieving. "That's impossible! Wheeljack has been dead since the very start of the battle. I pulled his body out of the gun turret myself!"

Things didn't get any better for First Aid when Ratchet's body was brought in with the others from the shuttle. It was some small comfort to him that everyone still occupying repair tables was just as shocked and surprised and confused as he was.

# # #

The first suspicion tickled Carly's mind when she learned Prime was dead. As she held and comforted Daniel as he grieved for those he'd seen die--sobbing for Optimus and Wheeljack and Windcharger, she remembered with foreboding that Prowl had included himself with them in his goodbye to her.

Perceptor had been surprised at Carly's calm when he broke the news to her an hour later. She nodded as tears escaped each eye. "Let me be the one to break it to Daniel," she told him firmly.

As the red Autobot slowly proceeded to the next target of his grim news, Carly lifted her head and smiled lovingly at him--and at others she could only hope saw her. "2:07 am. I understand now. Thank you, Prowl," she whispered. "Thank you all."

# # #

Hours and hours later, just before Starscream's ill-fated coronation, Blitzwing turned to Astrotrain and said quietly, "I hate to admit it, but I owe Starscream some thanks. Now I don't have to explain to Megatron just why I ignored orders to take down that gun tower."

"Out of curiosity, what was your _official_ reason going to be? I'm sure it wasn't going to be, 'Because a pair of dead Autobots asked me to'," Astrotrain said sardonically.

"I hope you'll help me come up with one, since you have to corroborate it. Starscream might ask the same embarrassing question." A very short while later, Blitzwing changed his mind as he watched the late Decepticon leader's ashes collapse into a heap. "Nope, I won't need to explain it to Starscream, either."

# # #

Kup remembered, of course--he'd seen enough strange things in his long life to know that what _should_ be isn't always what _is_. That, and ignoring what _is_ because it wasn't what you expected could get you killed. Kup was profoundly grateful that the unexpected seemed to have been busy keeping them from getting killed, for once.

He'd have stories to tell about the Battle of Autobot City, in time. Tales of heroism and desperation, life and death, small miracles and stubborn survival. For now, the grief was too fresh and raw; he wasn't ready to tell these stories, and the other Autobots wouldn't be ready to hear them. Though, perhaps, in one of those long deep space runs when Grimlock grew restless and bored, he'd tell the Dinobots.

Grimlock would appreciate a good ghost story. Especially one with Wheeljack in it.

\- FIN -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Like a lot of other Transfans, I was a bit bummed out when most of my favorite characters got wiped in TFTM (and the ones that didn't, seemed to have retired). Fortunately, my favorite bad boy managed to resurrect himself in the course of Season 3, but I rather missed Ratchet, Wheeljack & Co. More so after reading so many lovely fanfics about them. _
> 
> _Others have written lovely fics bringing the dead Autobots back to life (that's you, Lady Straya ;-) ). I don't want to trespass on their ground, and it's not quite my bent anyway. I bring the bad boys back and insist they get their act together--just ask Raditz--and Starscream already fixed himself (he still needs to get his act together, but that's another story). Why would I want to drag the good guys out of heaven?_
> 
> _Still, we miss those good guys, and others have written a lot of stories about them from the point of view of the grieving survivors. Some very good and moving stories. That's not my bent, either. I can't angst for more than paragraph or so without having some joker come up and try to paint the brooding angster in dazzle camouflage. Or having something blow up nearby. Or demons crawl out of the woodwork and try to eat people. Again, just ask Raditz about that. Every time he curled up to angst, the crap hit the fan. I think I have this authorial attitude that if you have time to angst, you have time to deal with a 900-lb alien predator that wants to eat you._
> 
> _So I decided to look at things from the dead guys' point of view--and take a poke at/follow some conventions of ghost and angel folklore. In such stories, no one ever asks embarrassing questions like "Fred, I thought you were 9000 miles away, what the heck are you doing here?". As you may have noticed, Ratchet gets to duck that question a lot._
> 
> _I also made my own explanation for "Why does no one in Season 3 seem to mourn for or even mention the guys who died?". The usual explanation in fanfiction is that they did, offstage--and as mentioned above, there's a lot of lovely stories showing those offstage moments. In my reality, there was offstage grieving, but it was ameliorated by the knowledge that their dead friends weren't all that gone after all._
> 
> _For everything else bizarre, I blame Terry Pratchett and/or Joss Whedon for corrupting me at a tender age._


End file.
